


Tumbler

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anniversary, Dean is a Sweetheart, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5894170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anniversary</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tumbler

“If you tell me this just tastes like molecules, Cas, I swear-”

Dean's words were swallowed somewhere between watching Cas take an overripe strawberry from the carton by their side, dipping it in his tumbler of champagne to leave a trail of redness smoking through the glass, and lifting it to trace the outline of Dean's lips with the tip of it.

Flicking out his tongue enough to taste both the strawberry and Cas' fingers before biting down on the soft fleshy fruit, Dean smirked. Cas' eyes somehow widened and narrowed at the same time, though his gaze was never shifted from Dean's mouth.

This was a game they played. A little dance of not-so-discreet touches and laden looks, riling each other up until the point where one of them snapped. Depending on the company, snapping involved bruising kisses and sharp intakes of breath, or desperate grabbing hands dragging one or the other to the privacy of their bedroom.

Currently, however, they were alone, nowhere near snapping point, and taking full advantage of that. Dean straddled Cas in a possessive and needy gesture that he would deny happening if anyone ever questioned him on it. One hand flittered, always touching – a shirt sleeve, a t-shirt hem, warm, smooth skin – there was no part of Cas that he didn't feel the need to claim, over and over. The other absently curled and uncurled around the glass on the table.

Cas was no better; when his hands weren't running down Dean's jean-clad thighs they were sneaking under his t-shirt and tracing patterns across his chest. Until Dean pressed the glass of champagne into his hand and and demanded that he try it.

But look where that was getting them.

Frowning at the bubbling liquid before him, Cas reached out an uncertain tongue, pretending he hadn't noticed the hitching of Dean's breath as a result.

“It is... effervescent.”

Dean smiled and took a sip from his own glass. “Try it.”

With an expression that spoke of all the troubles of the world, Cas took a large gulp and let the champagne fizz on his tongue a moment before he swallowed.

He looked considerate, pondering as always, then took another, smaller sip.

“So?”

“It's... good. It is very effer-”

“Fizzy.”

“Fizzy.” Cas repeated, testing the new word on his tongue almost as he had done the champagne. “like it. Although I think I prefer beer.”

This seemed to be the right thing to say as Dean laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, squeezing an affectionate grip. “I'll make a real boy out of you yet, Cas.”

“Pinoccio. And I am far from being a boy.”

This seemed to be an even better answer. Dean's eyes always lit up with pride when Cas understood a pop culture reference, and this time was no different. Aside from Dean shuffling a little to make himself more comfortable, denim on denim causing a very pleasant friction that Cas was more than happy to have continue.

“It's more of a celebratory drink than beer. You know. Special occasions. Weddings, christenings. That sort of thing. Usually in these tall stupid-ass glasses but...these work just fine.” He tipped the tumbler to Cas once more with a smile and took another sip.

Cas watched as Dean repeated his earlier attentions with another strawberry, biting down and feeling the sweetness and bubbles dance across his tongue. He closed his eyes and Dean leaned down to lick the juice from his lips, allowing them to part a little, invite him in. Dean sighed, cupping a hand to Cas' stubbled cheek and, after fumbling to put his tumbler down heavily on the table beside them, scratching his fingers through his hair.

Cas slid his hands under Dean's shirt, first to feel the long lean length of his back, and then down grip him closer as he ground himself against him, groin to groin.

Somewhere between a moan and a gasp, Dean mumbled into Cas' mouth, then pulled away with a flustered laugh.

“I guess this whole strawberries and champagne deal really is an aphrodisiac, huh?”

Cas smiled, and leaned in to kiss a line along Dean's jaw, up to his ear. He smiled to himself, wishing half-heartedly that some of the strawberry juice had remained on his lips so he could lick the same path.

“Dean. I need no aphrodisiac to want you. And I am certain,” he added, running his thumb along the straining now evident in Dean's jeans, “That this is true for you also.”

Dean's eyes closed a little at Cas' touch, before he leaned down to gently bite on the pulse at Cas' neck before kissing his way back up to his mouth.

“Can't a guy do anything without it being an ulterior motive?” His voice halfway between grumbling and gruffness was fooling neither of them.

Cas continued to stroke Dean through his jeans, enjoying the way Dean's breath caught in his throat before he reached his fingers up to stutter through his stubble.

Dean was drunk; not on the champagne, but on Cas. Not that he'd ever say that out loud; ingrained fear of showing his feelings meant so many things between them were left unsaid. Today though, today he was trying, and when their eyes met, more meaning was given than he'd ever manage to trip ungracefully out of his mouth.

Cas smiled, and Dean would swear it was in triumph. He took another sip from his tumbler, his eyes never leaving Dean's as he swirled the taste around his mouth again, swallowed slowly.

“Is today a special occasion, Dean? We are not attending a wedding, or a christening.” Cas watched him with the same pointed attention as he would have done were they discussing a new case.

A slight pinkness flushed across Dean's face as he broke the eye contact, shifting back a little.

The question remained unanswered and silence filled the gap.

Now Dean felt stupid. He'd never been good at this kind of thing, making romantic gestures, whatever. His eyes stared resolutely down at Cas' chest, and it wasn't until Cas reached out to gently cup his face that he raised his eyes to him again.

“Dean?”

Cas would wait for him to explain himself. He always did, no matter how difficult the subject or how deeply buried Dean thought he had things. Swallowing a little uncomfortably, he readjusted himself again, lightly gripping his fingers into Cas' shirt.

“Well. Remember last year, when I got mad at you-”

“Which time?”

“Cas...”

Cas watched Dean's face with affectionate amusement and Dean couldn't help but grin back idiotically; this is what this man had resorted him to. Speechlessness and sappy smiles.

He wouldn't swap it for the world though.

He tried again.

“When we were in that motel with the crappy orange wallpaper and I yelled at you for flying off, and Sam was taking forever to get us take out from the diner because it was pouring with rain?”

“You referred to him as a 'drowned rat' when he returned.”

“I did. But before that...”

“We argued.” Cas stated simply. They argued all the time, it was one of their things.

“Right. And remember what we argued about?”

“We had a... misunderstanding... about me leaving.”

Dean chewed his lip and said nothing, looking away.

Cas allowed him a moment of silence, and then, “A big misunderstanding. You could have just asked me to stay, Dean. I always stay when I can. ”

“But I didn't know you wanted to...stay.”

A moment of understanding flickered across Cas' face and his memory replayed one of the happiest moments of his long existence. Dean, cupping his face, pressing him harshly back against the motel room table and kissing him as though his life depended on it.

“That was the first time we kissed. It is a good memory.” he added, smiling.

Dean ran his hand through his own hair in that nervous way Cas had observed on countless occasions.

“Right. That was a year ago. Today.”

Another heavy silence descended as Cas processed those words.

“So today...”

“Today's our anniversary, Cas.” Dean sounded so forlorn, so desperate, and Cas felt the very human emotion of guilt.

“I... should have remembered. I should have marked the occasion-”

Dean kissed away his words. “It's alright. You're here, right now. That's the kind of marking of occasion I like. That is... if you even wanna celebrate...”

Dean never allowed himself to feel if he could help it, because that would just break you when it all went wrong. So right now, he was beating himself up internally for feeling the need to be so...sappy. But he would swear that the look on Cas' face right then was adulation and that his eyes really were shining with love. Or something.

Cas smiled that big gummy smile of his and Dean couldn't help but return it. Without the slightest of grace, he felt himself being lifted and unceremoniously dumped on the couch.

Dean stared up at Cas opened mouthed; Cas just pointed a finger to him and commanded; “Stay.”

The telltale swish of Cas leaving on his wings and Dean was left to stare about the room, feeling all shades of stupid. But before he could begin to wallow in self pity and question his sanity, Cas reappeared with his back to him, fiddling with something at the kitchen table.

A struck match, the sharp smell of sulphur, but thankfully no demon to follow.

When Cas turned back to him, the gesture was simple but it made Dean's pathetic sap of a heart beat out frantically. Two large slices of pie with huge scoops of icecream haphazardly balanced on the side of each plate, and a candle stuck roughly in the surface of one.

“I recall that you were particularly fond of this pie. You said it tasted orgasmic.”

Cas tentatively sat beside Dean and hopefully offered out the candled pie to Dean, whose face did a dance of trying hard not to smile, laugh and cry all at once. He eyed the thick pastry, the overspilling cherries, the rapidly melting ice cream and the candle protruding from it all, and let himself just...feel.

Without breaking eye contact, Dean blew out the candle. Cas smiled and offered out the fork in his hand.

“Happy anniversary, Dean.”

“Happy anniversary, Cas.”

 


End file.
